6 Of Photos & Seduction
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Newt works at Framed, a cute little photography shop in town. When a new project arrives for the photographers, he decides to get Minho involved... (Bordering on M, but not quite there, haha)


Of Photos &amp; Seduction

Newt had to go to work.

He really did. He couldn't be late because he was Newt and Newt was never late for anything. Especially for a job that was still relatively new.

But, as you can imagine, it was hard to not be late when you were currently in the shower with your incredibly attractive husband.

Newt gasped as Minho folded him into his strong arms and hauled him even closer. The hot water beat down on both of them, filling the air with steam and gleaming in their hair. Minho bent to kiss Newt's neck, sucking water from his skin. Newt whimpered at the sensation, closing his hands on Minho's over his stomach. Smirking, Minho rocked his hips forward into Newt. Pleasure ignited at the contact and Newt groaned. "Min," he choked out, "I have to go. I'm gonna be...l—late."

Minho growled, burying his face in Newt's neck. "Don't care," he mumbled. He touched sweet kisses down Newt's bare shoulder. "God, you're so sexy."

Newt shivered, every part of him wanting to stay. Minho moved his body again and Newt moaned brokenly, head thrown back over Minho's shoulder. Tingles of electricity raced all over his body. "G—God, Minho," he mewled. "I have to go to work."

"Screw work." Minho trailed his fingers up Newt's abdomen to his chest.

"Minho. I seriously have to go."

"No, you don't." Minho's hands slid back down Newt's body, as though tracing a precious treasure. "Stay. With me."

Newt turned his face toward Minho's, eyes half-lidded. "You know I want to," he murmured regretfully. "But I can't."

Minho huffed in defeat. "I know, I know." He pulled back from Newt and the blonde let out a tiny sound at the loss. Grinning, Minho cupped Newt's face and guided him into a kiss. "Go then," he whispered into Newt's mouth. "But hurry back, okay?" He stroked his thumb over Newt's hip. "I want to finish what we started."

Newt's lips turned up, looking at Minho's jagged black hair and lovely, oh so touchable skin. "I'll try," he murmured in amusement. He pecked Minho's lips softly. "I love you. See you later."

"Yeah, yeah," Minho scoffed in mock exasperation. But he was smiling. "I love you too, angel."

Newt reluctantly left the shower, snagging a towel. He wrapped it around his waist after drying off, glancing back at the shower door. Seeing the foggy outline of Minho's body sent a pleasant shudder down his spine. He was lucky to have someone like Minho in his life, who loved him no matter what (and sometimes made him late for work, but still). He almost decided to actually say screw work and stay with Minho a little longer. But he knew that'd be a mistake.

Sighing, he started to get ready for this day.

"ALL RIGHT GUYS, GATHER AROUND! COME ON, LET'S GO!"

Well, Newt had only been in Framed for five minutes when the hyper, quirky owner, Sonya came marching out from her office at the back. She had to weave past a circular table full of books on photography as she approached, and nearly stumbled over it in the process. She hastily righted herself, blowing a strand of white-blonde hair out of her face. Sonya was the kind of person that was always thinking faster than she moved. It made her a bit forgetful and clumsy at times. But hey, she'd managed to start her own photography/gallery shop in town, so no one had a right to judge her quirkiness.

Framed was an ambitious and daring idea, but it became surprisingly popular the minute it opened. There were books for aspiring photographers, cameras, and above all, photos. Pictures in beautiful frames (chosen by Sonya, of course) hung on every wall, for sale. They were all taken by the employees, or at least the ones who were photographers themselves, and Sonya was always coming up with new "projects" for them. She called them "Themes." Like, her winter Theme had been "white" and everyone had rushed to take pictures of anything and everything white. It was interesting and stressful, being a photographer for her. Newt should've known; he was one, after all.

Now he was watching in faint amusement as Sonya tripped over another table leg, swearing under her breath as she just barely stayed on her feet. He exchanged a glance with fellow photographer, Clint. They were both working on stacking up new books on a table. Newt raised his eyebrows. "What d'you think she's gonna tell us this time?" he said flatly, because they both knew the answer. "New Theme?"

Clint snorted, and sent him a you-kidding-me? look through autumn-brown eyes. "Oh, definitely a new Theme," he replied. "Those pictures from the weird 'Graceful' Theme have been up for too long."

"Oh god, I hated that one," Newt muttered. "You know how long it took me to think of something to get a picture of?"

"A while," Clint replied, with feeling. "It took all of us like four days. And you know she has the whole deadline thing, so I was stressed as hell." He raked one hand through his wavy black hair, a nervous habit; he always did it to hide the unusual silver streaks at the sides, even though everyone insisted they looked fine.

"Yeah, me too," Newt said, setting down the last book. "It's about time we got a new one to work on."

Clint inhaled sharply and pointed at Newt in an I-just-had-an-idea sort of way. "We should have one like—"

He was cut off suddenly by a blue-eyed guy with short, chestnut hair sneaking up behind him. He squeaked as the guy grabbed him by the waist, then growled in annoyance. "Jeff, you scared the crap out of me. I swear to God, I will taze you the next time you do this."

Jeff grinned broadly and leaned in to place a quick kiss on Clint's cheek. "I'd like to see you try, baby," he teased softly.

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?"

"According to Sonya, we all do, and I don't see you going anywhere."

Clint rolled his eyes, then gave Newt a withering glance. "You're lucky Minho doesn't work here with you, Newt, because trust me, working with your husband is irritating beyond belief." Then he jumped, yelping like a little girl when Jeff snuck a hand into his back pocket. "Get out of here, Jeff!"

Jeff jogged away, laughing, and winked at Clint over his shoulder. Clint looked away in reply, but he was blushing. He might have acted like he was annoyed with Jeff, but everyone knew he was absolutely smitten with his husband.

"COME ON PEOPLE, LET'S MOVE IT, PLEASE!" Sonya shouted, cupping her mouth with one hand. The other was holding a clipboard by her side. She stalked to the center of the room and snagged a chair to sit on. Crossing her skinny-jean-clad legs, she waited.

Newt finally left the table of books and made his way over. The growing circle of employees wasn't horribly big, just enough to help run the place. There were a couple of Sonya's close friends, Jeff and Clint, and Newt. They all formed a ragged group by Sonya, leaning on tables and some grabbing chairs for themselves. Newt chose to perch on the edge of a table.

"All right, we all here?" Sonya asked loudly. She scanned the group once with piercing green eyes. "Okay, good. I'm gonna get straight to the point then." She clapped her hands together once. "It's time for a new Theme."

There were several relieved remarks and sighs. Clint muttered, "it's about time." Newt nodded in silent agreement with everyone.

"Yes, I know," Sonya said in reply to their comments. "We've been needing one for a while. But I really wanted to do something good this time, something that would make you think to get a great picture, and would make people just...gasp when they saw it." Her gaze was alive with excitement.

"Oh great, another one of THOSE Themes," Jeff deadpanned. "Can't wait to get started."

"Jeff, kindly shut up," Sonya flashed back, ever polite. Then she held out her hands, palms out in a dramatic gesture. "All right, guys, now I don't like to brag, but I think this may become my most popular Theme ever. I've decided to call it..." She paused for effect, the corner of her lips turning up. "Seduction."

Everyone's eyes widened and Jeff choked on his own spit. A stunned silence fell for a minute. A dark-haired girl named Rachel broke it first, her pine-colored eyes uneasy. "Umm...WHAT?"

Sonya clasped her hands together. "Seduction," she repeated proudly. "Doesn't it sound like..." She searched for a word.

Clint raised his hand helpfully. "Like I'm gonna have a hell of a hard time finding a decent picture? Yeah. Yeah it does."

Jeff scratched his head. "How am I supposed to take a picture of Seduction? You know, WITHOUT scarring people."

Sonya shrugged. "I dunno," she replied lightly. "That decision is up to you guys. I have faith in you."

"You're the only one who does," Newt muttered under his breath. Because, come on. Seduction? What was he supposed to do? Newt was pretty good with a camera, one of the best photographers here. He knew how to edit a picture and make it look the way he wanted, give a certain feeling to the viewer. But...SEDUCTION?

"Right, so!" Sonya exclaimed, catching their attention. "I want some seductive pictures, people! Anything you want, but no nudity, nothing too sexual, and I better not see any bedroom scenes."

"This is freakin' rigged," Jeff complained.

Rachel piped up again: "can we have shirtless photos if they're of guys and not girls?"

Sonya thought for a second. "Shirtless guys are fine," she decided. "But I don't wanna see you people in it." She pointed sternly. "I'm talking to you, Jeff."

Jeff grumbled in disappointment. "Dammit."

Meanwhile, Newt felt the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind.

"I need a seductive picture of you."

Minho almost spit out the Monster he'd been drinking. Setting the can down on the kitchen island, he stared at Newt, who had just arrived in the doorway. "You need a WHAT?" he asked, thinking he must've misheard.

Newt fidgeted, playing with the long sleeves of his blue shirt. "Sonya gave us this new Theme today called Seduction," he explained. "I can't think of anything to take a picture of. Everyone's freaked out about it. They can't be, um, sexual or anything. So, I was thinking that maybe...I could take a picture of you?" His stormy eyes were questioning and fixed on Minho.

Minho knew about the Themes that Sonya came up with, and that Newt really loved photography and his job. But now Newt had to find a picture for SEDUCTION? And he thought of Minho? "You really think I'm...good enough for a picture like that?" he asked uncertainly.

"What d'you mean good enough?" Newt asked with a smile. "You're stunning. Sonya'll love it."

Minho warmed under Newt's praise, but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, if you're sure... Do I have to like, pose or something?"

"No," Newt chuckled. "Just do what you normally do all day. I want to take it when you're not expecting it. It has a better effect that way. I just wanted to let you know that you're gonna be in it."

"Why tell me? Why not just take it first, when I'm really not expecting you to?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay with it first."

Minho grinned at that. "Of course I'm okay with it," he replied, picking up his Monster again. "Take all the pictures you want." He raised the can to his lips with a sense of cockiness about him that made Newt roll his eyes up at the ceiling. The blonde rounded the island, making his way around behind Minho toward the fridge.

Minho suddenly turned as Newt passed him, and caught him by the sleeve of his shirt. "Hey." Newt halted, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Minho tugged lightly at his sleeve. "Didn't I say something about finishing what we started earlier?" he asked. He saw Newt blush, lips parting, and smirked wickedly. "This morning?" he went on, softer. He turned more in his chair, catching Newt's other sleeve. "Hmm? Remember that, sweetheart?"

Newt laughed, resisting Minho's pull. "Min, come on. I wanna eat, okay?"

"Yeah, right. Not anymore." Minho pulled Newt's sleeves down from his wrists, trapping his hands inside them. Then he kept his grip on the fabric and reeled Newt in until he stood between Minho's knees. Minho didn't miss the small gasp that left his husband.

"Minho," Newt protested, though it was a weak protest. His eyes were all over Minho.

"Oh, angel, you know you want me," Minho murmured. He wrenched at Newt's sleeves again, forcing the blonde's face closer to his. Newt bit his lip, trying not to grin goofily, and stopped himself from falling fully into Minho. Minho growled at the resistance. "Kiss me," he breathed, grazing his nose over Newt's. Their lips were a mere centimeter apart.

"Fine." Newt pecked Minho's mouth, stopping it before it got too heated.

"Dammit, Newt." Minho rested their foreheads together, looking into Newt's eyes. "Kiss me like you love me."

Newt stared at him. Then, slowly, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to Minho's. It was deep, and desperate, full of emotion. Minho released Newt's sleeves, bringing his hands up to Newt's hips as the kiss turned wild. A little sound of defeat left Newt and he climbed into Minho's lap, straddling his waist. Burying his fingers deep in Minho's hair, he kissed back harder. The feel of Newt's body curled around him made Minho crazy. He slipped a hand up under Newt's shirt, sliding it over the hard muscle of his stomach; smirking, he let his fingers drop down again to Newt's jeans and undid them easily.

Newt gave a little moan. And dear god, the sound made Minho melt. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and snatched at the hem of his shirt. In one motion, he stripped it off and let it drop. Sliding his hands into Newt's back pockets, he hauled the blonde even closer. He stopped when he noticed Newt's eyes on him, half-closed, traveling over his body. One corner of his mouth quirked up. "What?"

"Nothing," Newt murmured. "Just..." He trailed his fingers down Minho's chest. "God, you're beautiful." He kissed Minho's mouth, then his jaw, his neck, all featherlight.

Minho purred at the soft kisses. "You think I'm beautiful?" he asked in a drunken mumble.

"You already knew that," Newt whispered, smiling. He kissed Minho's neck again, lingering there for a long moment. "Min... Darling..."

Minho drew back, lifting his eyebrows at his husband. His grin was full of delight. "Darling?" he echoed, and Newt turned pink. "I didn't know you had a pet name for me, Newt."

"Well, I just...I never said it out loud before, but..." Newt stammered.

Minho chuckled and kissed Newt briefly. "You're adorable," he said softly. Newt cupped his face in his hands in reply and sank their mouths together again. Minho kissed him back, thumbs stroking over the skin above Newt's waistband. He felt Newt shiver. "And angel?" he asked in a whisper.

"Hmm?" Newt nipped Minho's bottom lip, gliding his fingers down Minho's neck.

"I love you."

Newt's lips curved under Minho's. "I love you too."

And so, about a week later, Minho found himself in a bit of a strange situation.

He was walking down the sidewalk in the bright sunlight, heading toward the music store where he worked. His guitar case was held loosely in his hand and he wore an old blue-and-black track team hoodie from Glade High because it was getting colder out. A perfectly normal day for him. Until he reached the place where he'd have to pass by Framed's glass windows and was nearly plowed over by a shrieking group of teenagers. All of them girls. This was definitely NOT normal.

"What the—?" Minho backed a few paces away from the trio of girls, his eyes wide and confused. They were all straightened-hair, hoop-earring-wearing girls with skinny jeans and matching grins. They were looking at him like he was One Direction.

"OMG, are you a model?" the girl in the middle asked, with braces gleaming from her thousand-watt smile.

Well, this was certainly not the question he'd been expecting. He gave her funny look, arching an eyebrow. "Umm. No. No I'm not...a model."

"AWWW!" they all chorused with equal disappointment. The middle girl kicked at the ground with her high-heeled boot. "Dang it," she said. "I thought you were famous or something. I wanted an autograph."

Minho gaped. Autograph?! "Why do you think I'm a model?" he asked slowly.

"Cuz you're HOT," the curly-haired girl on the left answered. Her friends squealed and giggled at her bravery. Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "But seriously, we thought you HAD to be a model, since your picture in Framed is so popular. Everyone wants to buy it, it's crazy! Sonya doesn't know who to sell it to."

Minho glanced at the front door of Framed next to him. Inside, he glimpsed an obnoxiously large crowd of customers clustered around something. He couldn't tell what it was, there were so many people. "Oh my god, Newt's selling me to strangers," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" a girl asked, cocking her head.

"Uh, nothing. Listen, I gotta go. It was, er...great meeting you." He grabbed the doorknob with the hand that wasn't holding his guitar.

One of the girls almost jumped on him. "Wait, what's your name?" she asked brightly. "So that I can tell my friends I met a model," she added with a laugh.

Minho sighed, but decided not to hurt her feelings. "It's Minho."

The girl behind her mock-swooned. "Lord, even his name is sexy."

"Okay, thanks, Minho!" The three began to skip away, bubbly and cheerful. They waved at him over their shoulders; two of them winked. "Byeeee!"

Minho shuddered. He vowed to never become a model or anyone famous in general. Especially if THAT was the attention he was going to get. Shaking his head, he pushed open the door and emerged into Framed. A buzz of conversation hit him as soon as he entered the room. People in the group ahead were talking to each other enthusiastically, and pointing at something on the wall. Some of them called out that they wanted to buy it, approaching a figure with shoulder-length, white-blonde hair: Sonya. She was beaming proudly, hands propped on her hips. Stuck to the wall above her, in flowing red lettering, was Seduction. Minho glanced briefly at the other pictures.

There was one of a delicate rose, flashing crimson during a rainstorm. And another was of a girl's scarlet-painted lips, and her finger held up to them in a hushing gesture. The third was a close-up of smooth, cream sheets; black petals were scattered over it, forming the shape of a heart. Most of the pictures were similar to these. They were beautiful, of course. But they weren't getting the attention Newt's was.

The curiosity was too much now; Minho braced himself before starting the difficult process of pushing through the clamoring crowd. He was elbowed by accident several times, and heard mutters of complaint thrown his way. His guitar case helped a bit in clearing a path. Quite a few people did double-takes when they saw him and whispered to each other knowingly. Minho ignored it all until he finally reached the front of the group. Huffing a loud breath, he tugged at the hem of his hoodie. Then he glanced up. And his jaw dropped.

He'd known Newt was good at editing pictures but...wow. He didn't even remember Newt taking this. And he couldn't believe it was him. Did he really look like that?

The picture was placed in an elegant, ebony frame, and was black-and-white. It showed Minho from the waist up, facing the viewer, but looking downward. He was completely shirtless. He had one hand halfway in the motion of running through his hair, which was mussed. Gawking, he realized Newt must've taken it after he'd gotten out of a shower one day. Newt had edited the picture to bring out the contrast between Minho's skin and jet-black hair. There was only a slight glimpse of color: the pinpricks of gold in Minho's half-lidded eyes. The beautifully designed, capital N that Minho had tattooed on his chest was there in plain sight.

Minho then realized that all these people around him were looking at, well, HIM. He looked again at the picture, at his own broad shoulders and bare, muscled stomach and chest—and blushed self-consciously. It was like being shirtless for real, in front of all these people.

"Minho!" Sonya's voice snapped him out of his reverie. She hurried over, a million silver bracelets jangling and her eyes alive with excitement. "Isn't this amazing? I've never gotten so much attention for one picture before! We should've photographed you a while ago. Ooh, I KNEW this was going to be my greatest Theme yet!"

"Uh-huh," he replied. He glanced at the picture. "That's really me?" he asked dumbly.

"Of course it's you!" she answered, giving him a playful push on the arm. "And it's WONDERFUL." She paused, glancing between the photograph and him. "I didn't know you had a six-pack."

"I didn't know EVERYONE was going to know what I had," he returned. He wasn't annoyed or anything. Just...blush-y. Especially since his tattoo was showing up there.

"I love the tattoo, by the way," Sonya added, as though reading his thoughts. "Very romantic. Adds a nice touch." She leaned in conspiratorially. "We didn't tell anyone who took the pictures and they're all DYING to know who 'N' is," she whispered to him. Her green gaze twinkled.

He couldn't help but grin at her child-like secretiveness. "You gonna tell them?"

"Nah. It would break the girls' hearts. They all think they gotta chance with you if you break up with 'N.' But if you break up with N, they ain't gotta chance unless they're a gay British blonde." She smiled widely at that, and Minho laughed. "You wanna see him?" she asked suddenly.

"See who?"

"Your husband, silly! Newt!"

"Where is he?"

Sonya bobbed her head toward a discreet door at the side of the room. "In the back room," she answered. "More of a closet, really." She pointed a stern finger at him. "Don't you two get up to any trouble in there, okay? He's here to work, not to make out with his husband in a closet."

Minho smirked devilishly and crossed a finger over his heart. "I wouldn't dream of distracting him from work," he promised. Although he planned on doing just that. Newt was distracted by Minho just by having him in the same room. Besides, he'd never mentioned that this picture would be a shirtless one. It was time for a little revenge.

"Good." Sonya drew herself up to look intimidating, but only ended up looking ridiculous.

Minho mock-saluted her. "See ya, Sonya," he called over his shoulder, and made his way from the crowd toward the little door. Carefully, he leaned his guitar case against the wall. Then he quietly slipped inside. The interior of the "closet" was surprisingly spacious. Shelves holding photography books lined the walls on either side. It was wide enough for a table to stand in the center, piled neatly with old photo albums labeled with Theme names.

Minho spotted Newt near the back, flipping through an old book. His heart blossomed with delight. Newt had gone through one of those mornings when he'd had to toss on clothes and hurry to work. He looked adorable in a pair of ripped jeans and one of Minho's shirts; it was denim and unbuttoned to show just a flash of collarbone. It made Minho ridiculously happy to see Newt wearing his shirt.

Newt was mumbling something to himself, turning back around. He raised his gaze from the book and his eyes widened when he saw Minho. "Minho!" he exclaimed, breaking into a smile. "What're you doing here?"

"Came to see that work of art out there," Minho replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "I don't know what it is about it, but I find it incredibly attractive."

Newt snorted. "I'm sure you do." He went back to reading something in his book again.

Minho took a couple innocent steps forward. "When did you take it?" he asked. "I don't remember ever seeing you with a camera."

"I was passing the bathroom when you came out," Newt explained. He glanced up briefly. "I dunno, I just thought something and took it. You never saw because I was already going to edit the thing after I got it."

"You thought something?" Minho echoed, snatching that piece of information. "What'd you think?"

"Oh. Nothing." Newt was suddenly very interested in his book.

Minho was rounding the table now. "Nothing? I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't."

"So tell me." Minho was around the table. He stopped a safe five inches away from Newt, who watched him warily. "I wanna know."

Newt's mouth quirked up. "Why?" he asked. "It's just a picture."

"A picture of me," Minho corrected.

"So?"

"So, I want to know why you chose me." Minho sidled up next to Newt. He placed one hand on the small of Newt's back, knowing the simple touch would drive Newt wild. Leaning in, he pretended to study the book Newt was holding. "What did you think?" he asked quietly.

Newt exhaled and turned his head so that their noses brushed. "I thought that nothing had ever been more gorgeous than you were in that moment," he admitted, like this was one of the secrets about his photography that he'd never shared with Minho. He was staring at Minho's mouth.

Minho felt pleasant tingles dance through him when he noticed what Newt wanted. "Thank you," he murmured. He curled his hand into a fist in the back of Newt's shirt, earning a little gasp.

"You're welcome," Newt mumbled, still gazing longingly at Minho's mouth so close to his.

Minho flashed a smirk. "You wanna kiss me, don't you?"

"Shut up."

"Gladly," Minho shot back, before capturing Newt's lips with his own. He heard the wonderful sound of bliss that left the blonde and felt hands on him. One rested on the front of his hoodie and the other grasped his belt to pull him closer. He was grabbing Newt's hips before he could stop himself, kissing him hungrily. Part of him knew they shouldn't get too carried away, since Newt was at work and all. But another part of him just thought about how hot it'd be to make Newt beg for him right here on this table. Drunkenly, he hauled Newt up and set him atop the table, standing between his knees.

Newt broke away instantly, panting. "Min, not here," he laughed breathlessly. "We'll both be in trouble."

Minho groaned in frustration. "I know," he muttered. He looked at Newt sitting on that table, in Minho's shirt, hair delightfully tousled. "Dammit. I know."

Newt grinned and tugged lightly at Minho's neckline. "We can finish this later," he said slowly, "if you want."

Minho shivered. No way was he letting Newt be the tease. He bent forward, grazing his lips over Newt's ear. "When you come home, you're mine," he whispered. "We're picking up right where we left off, table and everything."

Newt stuttered. "T—table?"

"I can make you crazy on a kitchen table, can't I?" Minho asked, full of dark intent. He found the sensitive place behind Newt's ear and dropped a kiss there, pausing to nibble at his skin. Newt couldn't hold back a tiny mewl of want. Minho chose that moment to pull back again. He met Newt's desire-clouded gaze with a grin. "Later," he promised. "You can have all of me later. But now you gotta work." He placed his hands on Newt's thighs and touched his lips to the blonde's forehead.

Newt glared at him when he stepped back smugly. "You're gonna pay for that," he told him darkly, sliding off the table.

Minho was already starting to walk away. He looked back over his shoulder and winked, loving how Newt blushed. "I'm looking forward to it, sweetheart."


End file.
